It was on the edge of Plank's lips to say, "to-day!"-- but he was silent, knowing that Harrington would speak for him.

And the old man did, without words, turning his iron visage on Quarrier with the silent dignity of despair.

But Quarrier coldly demanded a day before they reckoned with Plank.

And Plank, profoundly disturbed, shrugged his massive shoulders in contemptuous assent.
So Quarrier and Harrington went away--the younger partner taking leave of the older with a sneer for an outworn prop which no man could ever again have use for.

Old and beaten--that was all Harrington now stood for in Quarrier's eyes.